


Winter Cold

by katling



Series: Cullrian Appreciation Week [6]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluffy, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 22:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6772780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katling/pseuds/katling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Here is my contribution for Day 6 of Cullrian Appreciation Week over on tumblr. The theme for today is: In sickness and health.</p>
<p>In which Cullen puts the fear of the Maker into people and Dorian is a sick whiny baby. But Cullen loves him anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter Cold

The door to his office opened and Cullen looked up from his report with a searing glare. It turned out to be unnecessary as the scout bringing him more reports almost tiptoed into the room, looking wary and tense. Cullen didn’t help the man at all and simply watched expectantly as the scout tiptoed over and handed over the reports with a whispered, “From the Ambassador, ser.” The scout then almost scurried out of the room but still remembered to close the door as quietly as possible.

Cullen might have laughed at the whole performance and the satisfaction of knowing that he could still put the fear of the Maker into people who’d seen him almost tripping over his feet and blushing like a schoolboy as he’d courted Dorian but the sound of a cough and the following pained whine from above removed all the humour from the situation.

He got up and climbed up the ladder to his bedroom. He _did_ smile softly when he got up there and saw the lump of blankets on his bed. Somewhere in there was Dorian. A very unhappy and miserable Dorian who was in the throes of the winter cold that had taken the stronghold by storm in the last few weeks. Very few people had escaped it and it was quite likely Dorian had gotten it from Cullen since the man had refused to leave him alone when he was coughing his way through the illness, claiming that Cullen was just as likely to continue working and drive himself into some sort of collapse. Cullen had been hard pressed to argue against that.

He sat down on the bed and peeled back layers of blankets until he uncovered Dorian’s head. Or his hair anyway. It was tousled and sticking in all directions, quite unlike its usual styling, and Cullen ran his hand through it, occasionally pausing to scratch gently at Dorian’s scalp. For that, he got a noise that was halfway between a contented purr and a disgruntled grumble.

“How are you feeling, love?” he asked quietly.

The blankets shifted a little more to reveal Dorian’s face. His eyes were red and a little glazed and his moustache drooped in a truly sad and sorry way. He looked utterly miserable.

“I’m dying.”

Cullen chuckled and caressed Dorian’s cheek before laying his hand against the mage’s overheated skin when Dorian leaned into his touch. “You’re not dying. Have you taken the potions Madame Vivienne sent over?”

Dorian grimaced and nodded. “Taste awful.”

“I told you that last week when I was taking them,” Cullen said mildly. “I believe you called me a big baby.”

“I was wrong,” Dorian croaked. “So very, very wrong.”

His breath hitched in his throat and he started coughing. Cullen rubbed what he could reach of his back until the coughing fit eased and then picked up the tankard of water on the bedside table. He helped Dorian raise his head and drink then eased the man’s head back down onto the pillow.

“I hate this,” Dorian whined, shifting so that his forehead was pressed into Cullen’s thigh.

“I know, love,” Cullen said. He started running his hand through Dorian’s hair again. “But it will pass. Give it another day or two.”

Dorian pouted and grumbled at that and curled one hand around Cullen’s leg to hold him in place.

“Do you want me to organise a bath?” Cullen asked. “You’ll feel better if you wash.”

Dorian considered that then he gave a tiny shake of his head. “Stay?” he pleaded. 

The hand that had been wrapped around Cullen’s leg now reached up and pulled at his shirt. He’d decided not to wear his armour today since he’d known he was likely to be up and down the ladder repeatedly. Now, he was glad for it. He smiled down at Dorian and patted his hand.

“Let me just get my boots off.”

Dorian grumbled and mumbled as Cullen shifted around so that he could pull off his boots. He then began to unravel the blankets from around Dorian.

“Cold,” Dorian whined when Cullen had managed to sort things out.

“Not for long,” Cullen replied as he slid into the bed next to Dorian. He wrapped the blankets around them then pulled his lover in close. “There. Nice and warm.”

Dorian immediately snuggled into him and made contented, happy noises in between small coughs. Cullen waited until he had settled then began to gently run his hand through Dorian’s hair and down his back. The slow repeated motion soothed his lover and the muttering and mumbling and coughing died down until Dorian finally fell into a deep sleep. Cullen knew there was a great deal of work sitting on his desk but right at this moment, nothing was more important than the man sleeping in his arms.


End file.
